


So Much

by writelove



Series: The Prison Saga [3]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt, Stream of Consciousness, set after 5x01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 12:06:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12254076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writelove/pseuds/writelove
Summary: Amy misses Jake, so much.





	So Much

“I miss you,” She whispers through the phone, worried if she raises her voice too loud they’ll get caught. 

She misses him, so much. She doesn’t add the last bit, though; she never does. It must be horrible for him in there, being not only a cop, but a genuinely good person. Every day, she can’t help but picture the number of scenarios that he could be in at any given time, and they’re never pleasant. 

She’s terrified that one day she’ll get a call from the prison infirmary, and they’ll tell her to come down to say her goodbyes. Worse yet, maybe they’ll call her down after it’s too late. She wakes up in fits of screaming, fighting with the comforters that always seem to entrap her, picturing the worst - only to realize it was all a dream and spend the next several hours trying to calm herself enough to get back to sleep. Normally, she just lies there till her alarm goes off. 

She knows it’s horrible, losing him for fifteen years, but she vows to get him out before then. Even if she can’t, losing fifteen years of her life with him is a better option than going without him entirely. 

She gets these god-awful inclinations, sometimes, though. They creep into her mind before she has a moment to quell them: If he just died in there, then she would spend every moment of every day curating possible scenarios. It would hurt like hell, she knows it, but maybe then she’d be able to move on. She wouldn’t spend fifteen years as a passive participant in her own life. 

Usually, those thoughts only pervade her mind in the direst of times - after a particularly horrible nightmare, or a panic attack usually. But sometimes they’ll come when she’s making dinner and she realizes she’s bought two chicken breasts and double the amount of rice she needs, or she sits to watch the latest episode of Suits and feels guilty because he’s supposed to watch it with her. She’s always quick to shake them away, promising herself that they’ll be back together in no time, but it doesn’t always feel like that. 

She misses him, so much. But never does she add those two final words, because she is sure it is hell in there for him and she doesn’t particularly want to dump gasoline on a dumpster fire and worry him about her mental state. 

“Amy?” He whispers back. 

She doesn’t respond. The only sound filling the phone is the shaky breath they seem to share, both fearing they’ll lose the phone that acts as their only connection most of the time. 

He speaks, finally, “I miss you too.” 

She tries not to wonder if he misses her, so much. 


End file.
